


what is left of life

by theywereborntolovenothide



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, emotional harry, harry styles crying, louis is gone, mentally insane, screams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:45:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theywereborntolovenothide/pseuds/theywereborntolovenothide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis is gone and harry hasn't quite allowed himself to acknowledge his absence. sometimes harry screams, and one day harry calls out and realizes when there is no reply that the boy who held his world together is gone and is never coming back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what is left of life

"You never loved me back." The words spill over those raw, bitten pink lips, that deep voice almost desperately trying to voice the mess of emotions, struggling to piece together what is left of life.

Harry.

He knows that Lou did love him, of course he did. But his old insecurities have slowly crept back into him, taking the memory if Louis' love, still warm and real and heart wrenching, it seems, and shoving it down to the deepest part of Harry's heart, so that he has to dig to find it.

And Harry can't dig, can't bring himself to go through these tangled feelings. He's broken really, torn apart without the warmth of Louis' arms to put him back together.

Louis is really gone. 

The words never leave his mind; he will never really understand them. It would be impossible for Harry to accept them.

But they are there, and some part of Harry that's buried deep down inside him, along with the memories, maybe, knows that they're true. Harry won't tell himself that. He can't bring himself to acknowledge the thing that breaks him, he's sure that will tear him apart so that he completely loses all sense of sanity. To acknowledge that Louis, his reason to be, is gone, taken from him forever...

And maybe Harry is a little insane already, maybe he is already starting to break. He's sitting at his window now, long fingers absently running over the wooden sill, dark, clouded green eyes fixed on some point in the distance, looking at the mountains but seeing only Lou. There's a figure in the doorway as there is more often than not, but no sound comes, no voice beckoning to Harry, trying to make him move on, resume the life he'd had before.

Niall knows not to shake him, force him back to reality, drag him to signings and concerts and interviews when they don't matter anymore. He can't quite grasp what it would be like in Harry's mind now, but he knows he can't intrude, can't pretend to understand when he doesn't and never will. It's like an unspoken rule, and Niall watches from a distance, unsure of what fascinates him but somehow held almost transfixed on Harry's form. Mesmerized by something he can't understand.

Sometimes Harry screams, a long, ravaged, desperate wild sound that rips from his throat in a sort of strangled cry. His fingers find his hair, tugging harshly at those curly locks that were once so perfectly done, so greatly admired. He remembers when they mattered.

It was so long ago, wasn't it? Couldn't possibly be connected to the world he lives in now. Like two lives, one sparkly and happy and bright, the other a tangled mess of cold, dark... debris, really. His whole world torn into pieces of debris in the cold, spinning and spinning and tangling and breaking until they vanish into darkness.

Maybe the first life was surreal, maybe it never existed, maybe Harry has been sitting here all along in the cold.

If it weren't for the memories.

They flood Harry, and even the happy ones break him. That delicate, gentle smile on Lou's face when he spoke to a child, so quick it would be easy to miss, but Harry never did. If he concentrates he can see that smile, and as much as it hurts him, it fills him with warmth. His mind whirls, his vision clouds and he's not sure why; he's seeing Louis through the haze of tears he's ignored.

Louis was always there.

The pain, the problems were there too, but with Louis, Harry could survive anything. Throughout the "womanizing" rumours, the management demands, the fake Elounor, Louis was there for everything. His arms would wrap so tight around Harry's torso, warm fingers wiping away the tears that fell as Harry sobbed out how it was all a publicity stunt, it was crazy and awful and he hadn't wanted any of it, he wasn't a womanizer at all. Louis was always there to understand; no one knew Harry like he did.  
And now Louis is gone.

It's getting dark now, the murky color of the sky mirroring the world Harry holds inside. Somehow the sun goes down each night without Harry's admiration; Harry used to love the sunset, tugging Lou to the window to watch, but somehow Harry misses it now. He doesn't see the buttery rays of fuschia sunlight flooding the world one last time before nightfall, his gaze skipping over the view without interest. The mountains are dark silhouettes in the distance, and somehow Harry knows he's all alone.

"Louis?" His soft voice echoes quietly across the room, almost questioningly. For a moment Harry sits, suspended in time, maybe hoping for an answer back, a call from just down the hallway, a quiet "Yes?", or even just a whisper...

But there is no reply; the room echoes with a seemingly deafening silence.

And it is in this momlent that Harry realizes that the boy who held his world together is never coming back.

He tries to let go, tries desperately to release this overwhelming pain inside him. But his whisper stays, embedded in the freezing air, the name-- the question-- to stay forever.  
"Louis?"


End file.
